


Puppy Love

by infiniteworld8



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dogs, Emotional Baggage, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Panic Attacks, Post-Hell Dean, Post-Season/Series 03, Protective Sam Winchester, Scared Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 13:34:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4265091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infiniteworld8/pseuds/infiniteworld8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's stint in hell left him with some scars that not everyone can see. He's terrified of dogs. Sam hasn't realised his phobia and Dean's determined that his brother won't. When their latest job brings them face to face with fidos, Dean has a hard time coping.</p><p>Based on the prompt:A large, friendly dog jumps up on Dean unexpectedly, maybe at a park or something. He tries to play it off but has an epic panic attack. Difficulty breathing, maybe even vomiting. He tries to hide it from Sam, embarrassed to be weak in front of his brother.<br/>Sam (and here's the kink part for me) is all over this when he realizes what's going on. Yelling at the dog owner, getting Dean to a private place, and then just comforting the heck out of him. I want hugs, praise, maybe he wraps his brother in his jacket or something, just lots of loving touches.<br/>Then they head back out there together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Puppy Love

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea whose prompt this was. I grabbed it a long time ago, and finally got around to writing it. I literally wrote this fic in about an hour. Any and all mistakes are mine, not beta read.

There’s something that changes in you when you die and come back. And there’s a hundreds of little things that change even more when you die and remember how it happened. Dean had always liked dogs. Not as much as Sam who ever since he could talk had been  begging their father to buy one. Later when he realized that was not ever going to happen Dean had caught him more than once gazing wistfully at somebody else’s pooch.

But now Dean hated dogs. Having  rotten, horrific creatures like hellhounds rip your body apart and feeling your entrails being tugged out by their blood drenched teeth did that to a person. Dean refused to admit he was scared. He was a Winchester, they feared no one. Except Dean did.

Sam hadn’t figured out yet and Dean wasn’t going to let him. He made an excuse to get out of interviewing the couple with the  Pekingese.  He sat stock still, sweat dripping down his neck,  when a Great Dane stalked by while he was walking down Main Street. He nearly pissed his pants a golden retriever growled at him randomly outside a vic’s house, but he’d be damned if he let Sam know his weakness.

Thus far he had managed to keep his cool. Sam didn’t have an idea about his sudden dog phobia and Dean was determined that was how it would be.

They had stopped at some little café. It was the sort of place Sam liked and Dean could just about tolerate. Sure, they topped the burgers with some fancy cheese and prosciutto instead of bacon and a cheese slice but it was close enough to artery clogging junk food and it was actually pretty tasty. After lunch, they needed to stop by one of the sites where the last vic had been killed. It was some sort of park. Dean was willing to bet the park had all the latest bike paths and the rest of that fancy shit. The entire city so far had been like that.  Bistros , boutique, museums on every corner. What dean wouldn’t have given for a regular bar and burger joint. Especially since they at least wouldn’t have allowed dogs.

This particular venue was so progressive a Black Lab was sitting no less than a chair away from him.

“It’s an assistance dog Dean.” Sam hissed under his breath.

Dean didn’t take his eyes from the dog as he answered. “I know what it is Sam. What I don’t understand is why it has to sit next to me when I’m trying to eat. It’s frigging unsanitary.”

Sam snorted at that. “When have you ever cared about unsanitary?”

“When I had dog slobber on my food.”

“It hasn’t even come near you.”

“I’m not arguing with you about this.”

“Good because you’re making no sense. “ Sam muttered under his breath. Dean didn’t hear, he was too busy trying to keep track of the dog without making eye contact. He had heard somewhere that dogs attacked if you made eye contact, but he had also heard that avoiding eye contact made you seem weak and more like a target. So instead he had settled for short glances at the dog.

“Are you gonna eat or have a staring contest with Fido?”

Dean swung his head around to find Sam staring at him eyebrows raised. He looked somewhat amused and that casual smirk pissed Dean off. He would have retorted but he detected a hint of movement out the corner of his eye. Instantly he whipped his head around, only to find the dog had stretched out in a new position.

Sam was still talking. “Dean, what is up with you today? That’s just a harmless dog.”

“That is not _just a harmless dog_.” dean placed emphasis on the last words.

 “Well then what is it?”

Dean never answered because the dog chose that moment to wander a little closer sniffing the air. Without thinking Sam flicked a French fry at the lab, it caught the treat in its mouth and encouraged by the success moved even nearer.

Dean jerked back as the labs wet muzzle nosed his hand. “Fuck!”

His chair slammed back as he stood up backing away from the dog. _He was not scared of this dog. He was not scared notscarednotscarednotscared._

He was so scared.

“Keep you damn cripple helper to yourself!”  Sam was apologizing now and the man whose dog it was looked scandalized. All that washed over Dean.

The only thing he could see was sharp claws and tearing teeth. The stench of rotten meat and death was in his nose.

“ Car—Sam “ At least that’s the words he thought he choked out half coherent. Sam would know what he meant and if not he would figure it out.

Dean got to the car and locked himself in. _Didn’t matter hellhounds could break through almost anything and once they got your scent they never forgot._

His hands were shaking, and the first swig of liquor he took from the bottle stored in his pocket spilled down his shirt. He managed a few more gulps trying to steady his nerves.

A loud rapping on window, made him slosh more liquor on himself. “Shit.”

“Open the door.” Sam was rapping the window, and he looked pissed.

Dean unlocked the door, stashing the liquor bottle away at the askance look his brother gave him.

“Dean , what is your problem? You’re an asshole you know that.” Sam continued talking, his bitchface already firmly in place. “That dog is for seizures. The manager kicked us out and now the whole town is going to know about the two FBI agents who are assholes.”

Dean slipped the key into ignition and started the engine.

Sam didn’t stop. “Were you drinking?” Then he laughed. “Damn, what am I saying of course you are.”

“Stuff it.” Dean growled. The last thing he wanted was to hear about his drinking. He could drink, that was his crutch and Sam needed to get off his case, it wasn’t like his brother hadn’t done worse. Dean told him so, taking vindictive pleasure in the look of guilt and anger that crossed Sam’s face.

It was a good ten minutes before either of them spoke again. Dean was the first to breach the silence. More from necessity than a desire to talk with Sam, however he was driving and kinda needed to know where they were going. “So where was the last vic killed again?”

“Spencer Park, it’s right of the exit near the motel.” Sam’s bitchiness pretty much permeated every word. A teenage girl couldn’t have been more sullen.

They got to Spencer Park without incident and by that time, Dean was feeling better. His heart had stopped racing. His hands weren’t trembling. He was back to normal.

Until he realized why Leslie Milue had been killed in Spencer Park. She was a dog walker, all the vics had died at the place they worked at most. Spencer Park was a dog park.

Dean was not okay with this. But it wasn’t like he could run off. He just needed to stay away from the dogs. Easier said than done. There were at least fifteen dogs all milling around the park with their owners. Sam soon struck up a conversation about the vic with another dog walker, Katelyn. She had known Leslie and…. The rest of the conversation was hardly important because Katelyn was walking three dogs. One a small (but Dean was sure vicious ) terrier, and the other two hulking English Mastiffs. Dean didn’t know the exact breeds all he knew was two of the dogs were big enough to eat him whole.

His hands were trembling but he tucked them in his pockets. Sweat dripped down his neck dampening his collar. He struggled to stay focused on the present.

_Not lying on the floor of some room. Blood pooling in his mouth. Screaming as he was ripped apart._

His hands itched to grab the nearly empty bottle of liquor in his pocket but he fought the urge. Sam was bending down now, playing with the two larger dogs.

“They’re really friendly.” Katelyn said. “All they ever do is eat and play.”

Sam looked up, the sulleness forgotten in the face of dogs. “Sounds like you Dean , huh?”

“Yeah” Dean swallowed, he didn’t feel good. “Uh Samm—“ He broke off because at that moment one of the dogs ambled up to Dean and placed his paws on his shoulder’s attempting to lick his face. The weight was too much, Dean stumbled back.  He tripped and then landed flat on his back, the dog over him and that was the worst thing that could have happened.

All the self control in his broke. He could hear Sam laughing somewhere about his predicament. But none of that mattered, because he was back a over a year ago. Screaming and begging not to die…not to die like this.

“Sammy! Help! Please, help Sammy” He screamed, the words turning incoherent as he felt the claws tearing his chest. He was sobbing, begging. “Please—please don’t let them get me.” Sam was screaming at Katelyn now, something about getting the dog off.

“He’s just playing, tell your partner to calm down.”

“Get—the –fucking –dog—away—Now!”

The huge beast was gone, but Dean was still aware of the dogs in the park. They were all too close. Hellhounds come to kill him. He stumbled to his feet, blindly trying to get away, but too terrified to do more than stumble over his feet.

Then someone’s arm was there supporting him. He stumbled back to the impala slamming the door behind him as he tried to put the keys in the ignition. His hands were shaking so hard he dropped them. The door shut on the other side and Sam was there.  Dean tried to speak. “We—we need—to—l-l-ea”

He sucked a breath down feeling lightheaded. He couldn’t get the words out. Sam was speaking.

“Calm down, slow deep breaths,” He tried, he really tried. But Dean couldn’t stop the terrified pants that forced themselves out.

He was close to blacking out when Sam pushed a paper bag into his hands, forcing it up to his face. His brother was leaning closer wrapping his arms around and Dean was too scared to be embarrassed. He knew the panic was illogical, and yet he couldn’t stop.

“It’s okay Dean. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

Dean shook his head, because Sam couldn’t say that. Tears squeezed out his eyes. It was his responsibility to protect Sam not the other way around and he had already failed so much. Second, Sam couldn’t protect him, in the end the hellhounds had got him all the same.

The paper bag was doing what he consciously couldn’t , his breathing was evening out.  But a new sensation was taking over.  Acid danced in the back of his throat, threatening to come up. “Sam.”

That was all that was needed. One word and his brother was swearing, and leaning past him to open the driver door. He made it just in time, Dean doubled over as the remnants of a scant breakfast and a large quantity of alcohol made their appearance.

It took several moments before he had gotten enough control of himself to will the dry heaves down.  Dean leaned back in his seat feeling spent.

He was cold all over and the feeling of phantom pain seared his body. He was grateful when Sam didn’t say anything but just pulled him closer like they had done when they were kids and one of them was sick or scared. He was shivering violent and Sam felt like the only source of heat in the suddenly cold car.

“I’m not your prom date.” He muttered through chattering teeth when Sam shrugged off his own jacket and draped it over him. But Dean didn’t move away from the gesture or the arm Sam had slung over him.

“It’s hellhounds isn’t it?”

Dean froze at Sam’s quiet words.  Nevertheless, his silence was all the confirmation his little brother needed.

“Shit, Dean. Why didn’t you tell me? If I had known that was the problem I wouldn’t have—“

“ ‘m not weak.” Dean mumbled, feeling like that was the biggest lie he had told in a long time.

“I didn’t say you were.”

To Dean’s ears that didn’t sound sincere. All he could hear was his father’s voice telling him to man up and be a role model for his brother. _If you act like a punk what do you think your brother will be? A punk too. Man up Dean don’t be a bitch and your brother won’t act like one._

“Dad would say being scared of dogs…” Dean trailed off he pulled away from Sam’s warmth. Sam’s jacket he left on, but he  retreated to his side of the car. “I’m not weak.” Dean repeated the words, but that sounded just as pitiful to his ears.  His hands played with the fabric off the blanket trying to forget, without warning, he felt a tear fall down his cheek.

It was hot and burned and then to his embarrassment it was followed by another, and another. He couldn’t stop them and grabbed the car door to try and leave. If he couldn’t stop crying he could at least not let his brother see.

Sam’s hand on his arm stopped him. Dean didn’t look at him but he heard the words.

“Dean” Sam swallowed. “I don’t give a fuck what Dad would say or has said.”Dean turned back to find Sam staring at him, his jaw set in a determined line.  “ _You_ are my big brother, you’ve done more for me, for the everyone then Dad did. _He_ started all this. He had some revenge kick, he kept that secrect about me and the Demon blood. He made you think you had to sacrifice yourself to save me, so you got ripped apart by fucking hellhounds.”

Sam’s voice was rough now. “So if there is anybody that gets a free pass it’s you. “

Sam was still looking at him seriously, Dean took a shaky breath. Then replied. “Well fine, but don’t think I’m giving you any slack about that clown thing.”

“Fear of clowns is a perfectly rational phobia.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Sam was still arguing his case as Dean fished around for the keys and started the car. The past was still looming and the future was uncertain but for now, things were okay.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading.


End file.
